


Tactile

by Aiilurus



Series: RK1000/Conkus shorts [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Artist Markus, Blind Character, Blind!Connor, Blindness, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Human AU, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Romance, like so light idk why I'm tagging it, markus being a sap, sculptor Connor, tagging is hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiilurus/pseuds/Aiilurus
Summary: Markus knew he should make more friends, even his current friends never ceased pushing him to talk to more people. He'd humour them if only because his mentor said that human connection might help him overcome his art-block. What he didn't expect at his next gallery was to find himself immediately infatuated with someone who could provide him with endless inspiration. Someone who could appreciate him for more than his good looks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I’m back to writing again after moving country so I’m sorry I’ve been so dead!

The 16th of July was another pleasantly warm day in Detroit, resting comfortably at 73 degrees. Markus watched the outside world through one of the galleries ornate windows, willing his racing heart to cease. No amount of reassurances from his mentor could quell his fears completely, after all, there is nothing more terrifying for an artist than to have their work displayed. Sure, he’d felt elation and pride when he’d received the news that some of his works had been chosen to be included in the exhibition, but nothing could stop the vulnerable feeling that he was essentially baring his soul to these strangers. 

 

“If you keep worrying so much you’ll turn grey.” Carl's voice joked from below him, manoeuvring his wheelchair until he was beside him.

 

Markus still didn’t shift his gaze, ignoring the older man to instead focus on a teenage couple in the park outside. They seemed infatuated with each other, if their vastly unnecessary PDA was any indication.

 

”Maybe if you stopped being so antisocial and mingled with the other artists you’d stop worrying so much, you might make some more friends.” Carl’s voice turned sly as he too looked at the couple. “You might even-“

 

Any suggestions that Carl might have had were cut off when Markus scoffed, one hand coming to slide over his head as he sighed, tired green eyes closing for a few moments before they opened again. 

 

“That’s only if the other artists think my work is actually worth anything.”

 

”Hey now, I picked you to study under me for a reason.” He felt when the elderly man patted his arm reassuringly. “I saw great potential in you Markus, a viewpoint and way of seeing things that can’t be taught. You’re better than you think.”

 

Markus still wasn’t completely convinced, but he did try to give Carl a convincing smile. 

 

“There’s no use standing around worrying, go take a look at everyone else’s works, I’m sure they’re all worrying just as much as you.”

 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the older artist was right, and he hesitantly turned to explore the rest of the gallery.

 

He was impressed, to say the least, and he was comforted by his talks with other artists when he saw how on edge they also seemed. He found himself studying the unrestrained emotion he saw when he looked at one artist’s pieces, brushstrokes almost violent in the way that they seemed to slash across the canvas. The artist himself was enigmatic, Markus found his eccentricities and habit of speaking of himself in the first person to be endearing. They soon exchanged number and vowed to work with each other and exchange ideas with a handful of other artists.

 

Perhaps his most surprising find was a collection of dainty watercolour paintings created by a giant of a man who introduced himself as Luther. Markus immediately respected the man, as he watched him reject numerous offers to buy his pieces. Apparently they were all created for his daughter, and Markus spent nearly 15 minutes being told everything about her, from her favourite foods to the quirks that Luther found adorable.

 

Before too long he found himself wandering out of the painting galleries and approaching broad hallways filled with sculptures. Although many of Markus’ paintings weren’t exactly traditional, he couldn’t help but admit that he was a bit of a traditionalist when it came to sculptures. He couldn’t make sense of the more “modern art” pieces, to him some just seemed like random shapes haphazardly assembled together, but he merely shrugged and reasoned that not every type of art is for everyone. 

 

As as he turned away from the more experimental sculpture displays he found himself more pleased. These sculptures resembled actual things, at least. Some were rather simple, but nevertheless detailed, some were poses of human bodies, others were of animals and the more obscure ones resembled inanimate objects such as trees. Being the tactile person that he is, Markus more than once had to resist the urge to touch some of the finer details of the statues.

 

Rather abruptly he found himself stopping before a statue of a woman, and he could barely stop his jaw from nearly dropping as he took in its details. It was hard to believe that the cloth that draped over the woman’s soft curves was in fact stone with the way it seemed to cling to certain parts of the woman’s body. Her hair looked almost as if it would blow in the breeze, and her strong features conveyed determination.

 

Markus didn’t know how long he stood there gaping in front of the statue before he was suddenly startled by a woman’s voice. 

 

“Do you like it?”

 

Markus jumped, feeling as if his heart stopped for a few seconds before he turned towards the source of the voice, a woman who’s hands were held up in apology.

 

”Damn, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were so focused.” She didn’t seem sorry, voice tinged with the same smirk she was wearing.

 

Now that Markus had a chance to look at her, he realised that the statue was an exact copy. Their faces were identical, the woman’s strong features resembling the one’s carved from stone exactly. 

 

“N-no it’s okay, just-“ Markus struggled to make himself look composed, though he quickly gave up with a sigh. “It’s amazing.”

 

The woman only hummed at him in response, her gaze trailing up the statue with a spark behind her eyes.

 

”Did you make this?” The question seemed to throw her off.

 

”Oh! No.” She shook her head but she was smiling at the statue, Markus almost thought he heard pride in her voice. “No, my friend did.”

 

”Are they here? I’d love to tell them how amazing it is to their face.”

 

”He’s here... somewhere...” She spun around as she tried to find him. “...No idea where though. I could come find you when I find out where he’s wandered off to. What’s your name?” 

 

“Markus.”

 

”North.” And with that she walked away, obviously intent on finding her friend, leaving Markus to continue exploring. He passed through more rooms filled with more paintings and sculptures, but when nothing impressed him quite like the statue of North he decided to return to Carl.

 

”Oh, Markus. I almost thought you’d got lost.”

 

”Nope, but I did meet a lot of other artists.”

 

”Good, you need to stop being such a hermit.” At Markus’ offended look he merely smirked before turning towards Markus’s paintings. “People really like your paintings Markus, a lot of people have even offered to buy them.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

”Of course. How many time do I have to tell you that you’re better than you-“

 

”Markus!”

 

The two looked behind them to see North hurrying over, insistently pulling a man behind her. She was grinning, the corners of her mouth looking almost as if they would reach her eyes, whilst the man behind her looked a little more troubled, urging her to slow down.

 

Once North reached them, she tugged the man to stand beside her.

 

”This is Connor.”

 

Markus’ eyes lit up when he realised that this was the statue’s creator, hand lifting instinctively to shake his. Connor was only marginally shorter than himself, but Markus was more built whereas the other was more lithe. His pale skin was abundant in dark freckles, his eyebrows slightly down-turned. All in all, he was adorable.

 

Markus almost slapped himself for such thoughts about someone he'd literally just met, though he couldn’t deny his instant attraction to the other’s soft features.

 

”Markus.” Carl’s voice brought him back to reality and Markus realised that his hand was still raised, Connor not making a move to take it. With a feeling of dawning realisation he noticed that Connor’s eyes had naturally remained shut throughout the entire interaction and felt himself blushing as horror came over him.

 

”Oh my god I’m so sorry.” Was all he could force out of his throat, but luckily for him Connor seemed to find the situation amusing, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

”It’s alright.” Markus was nearly blown away by how soft his voice was, swallowing when he took in the peculiar but appealing shape of the brunette’s lips. His attention was pulled away when Connor raised his own hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Markus.”

 

”Nice to meet you, too.” He relaxed as he took the other’s hand, shaking gently. Carl and North has begun talking, Carl curious about the statue that had gripped Markus, North leading the older man to the other room to see it. Markus swallowed harshly when he realised that this left him and Connor alone. 

 

“So, I heard you like my work.” Markus could hear the smile in the brunette’s voice and found himself grateful that he couldn’t see the redness forming on his cheeks. 

 

“The statue of North is amazing.” He breathes out, the wonder obvious in his voice. “I mean, the face is the spitting image of her and the material of the outfit is incredible, it really looks as if it’s transparent.”

 

Now it was Connor’s turn to blush, pale cheeks darkening as his head turned downwards as if to hide. It was endearing, to say the least, and Markus felt that warmth growing within him as he took in the other man.

 

”That’s really nice to hear. I spend so much of time on each piece it’s like they’re my children. I find that the faces are the easiest part, but clothing is very difficult since I can’t see if it looks transparent enough.”

 

”Have you always been-“

 

”Yes.” Connor’s answer was blunt but Markus supposed that he was tired of answering it. Connor, realising that his answer could be seen as a bit rude, shook his head. “But enough about me, tell me a bit about yourself.” 

 

Markus soon found that talking with Connor was very easy, there were barely any pauses in the conversation as they flowed from topic to topic. Markus told him about his early life, about how he’d found himself interested in art at the early age. He managed to make Connor laugh with his stories of terrorising his parents and their house with his artistic endeavours. In return the brunette told him about growing up being raised only by his father, a man who had adopted him when he was still a baby. Apparently his father, Hank, made sure that he stayed in mainstream education, he felt that Connor’s blindness shouldn’t hold him back, something that Markus respected. 

 

Markus found himself enraptured by the way the shorter man’s face lit up when he asked him about his work’s inspiration, and found himself drawn in when Connor told him fact after fact about different ancient civilisations. At one point North and Carl returned, but when they saw the two talking off to the side they decided to leave them alone. North smirking and Carl giving him a wink.

 

“What kind of art do you make?”

 

“Oh, I paint mostly, my style takes inspiration from my mentor, Carl Manfred.” He was caught off guard by the question, suddenly realising how hard it is to describe art to a man who couldn’t see it, until he warmed as he thought of an idea. ‘I could show you one day, if you like.”

 

He felt himself growing hotter as he imagined himself sitting with Connor in front of an easel, the smaller man’s back resting against his chest as Markus guided his hand across the canvas. He was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice Connor’s face turning a shade darker, though he did hear his reply.

 

”I’d like that.”

 

Such simple words were enough to make Markus’ breathing halt. Connor reached into his pocket and to the artist’s surprise pulled out a phone, tapping a few times before holding it out to Markus. “Here’s my phone number.”

 

”O-okay.” He replies dumbly, fumbling to get his phone out before quickly entering the brunette’s number.

 

”We can use phones, you know.” Connor’s voice was factual but not mocking, one corner of his lips turned up. “I can do anything you can do.” 

 

“I don’t doubt it.” Markus was happy to see Connor perk up slightly at that, smiling in his direction. “I’ll text you soon.”

 

With that, Markus turned to walk away, body feeling lighter at the prospect of spending more time with the fascinating man. He crossed paths with North as she moved to joint Connor, the sandy haired woman giving him a smile.

 

Carl must have noticed the spring in his step, smirking as Markus approached. 

 

“Markus! I thought you were going to spend all night talking to him.”

 

Markus shrugged off the comments, but when Carl’s wheelchair sidled up beside him he sighed, resigning himself to his fate of being tormented.

 

”I got his number.” He flinched at the surprisingly strong pat Carl gave his arm. 

 

“See, I told you to mingle more. You seemed to really get on with him...”

 

”Leave it, he might just think of me in a friendship kind of way.”

 

”Not with that body language.”

 

”Carl!” Markus sighed as he rubbed his face, Carl only chuckling goodnaturdely beside him. Still, Markus couldn’t help but hope that the spark he’d felt when talking to Connor he also been felt by him.

 

* * *

 

Connor jumped when he felt someone grab his arm, though he immediately knew it was North, she had a habit of doing that to him.

 

”Where are you taking me now?”

 

”Somewhere I can talk to you.”

 

He guessed that North had led him to a side room when the voices from the gallery became muffled.

 

”So... how was your little chat with Markus?”

 

Even Connor was surprised by how quickly his cheeks began to burn, and only felt himself heating up more when North barked out a laugh.

 

”It was fine.”

 

“Just fine?” 

 

“...I got his number.”

 

There were a few seconds of stunned silence before North slapped him on the back. “See! I told you meeting some new people would do you good.”

 

”What does he look like?” Connor’s face was dreamy as he smiled, and North immediately knew he was smitten.

 

”He’s actually really fucking hot, I’m jealous, seriously. He’s tall, has muscles for days - not too much though, you’ve heard me ranting about those creepy looking competitive muscle competition guys before." Connor nodded eagerly, if Markus was good looking enough to have caught even North’s eye then he must really be something. “He’s got dark skin and these really pretty green eyes, his voice is-“

 

”I know what his voice sounds like, North.” He reminded her, voice growing soft. “He sounds amazing, so why would he-“

 

”Nope. None of that.” He felt her beginning to lead him back into the main gallery. “You’re a catch Connor, don’t doubt that.”

 

He spent the remaining hours of the event making small talk with other artists and visitors, but he found himself longing to hear Markus’ warm laugh again. The man’s voice made him feel at ease, like he could have a conversation with him about anything and never get bored. By the time the gallery closed he realised that he barely remembered a thing about any of the other people he’d met.

 

His father noticed the change immediately, gruff voice calling to him as he and North approached the car.

 

“Why’s your head so in the clouds?”

 

”He met a guy.” North spoke before he had time to even process the question.

 

”North!” He slapped her hands off of him, but she only laughed as he opened the door to get in himself.

 

”What? You basically spent the entire time pining for him.” Before Connor could argue back, she continued. “You should text him.”

 

”Maybe I will.”

 

The determination in Connor’s voice caught her by surprise, though he seemingly decided that the conversation was over when he slammed the car door. Hank and North only smirked knowingly at each other.

 

Miraculously, Connor managed to ignore their jokes for the rest of the car ride. He instead sat deep in thought, determined to text Markus and organise a time to meet again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The exhibition continued for a few days and whilst Markus mostly spent his time confined to the wing that housed his work, he always found ways to “bump” into Connor. Carl joked that they were like schoolboys with how obvious they were being, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed by his feelings. 

 

Every conversation had him falling harder than the last, though his friend Simon had jokingly warned him to not do anything rash like declaring his love after six days of knowing each other. He found himself watching the clock a lot, waiting for an acceptable time to make the excuse of going to lunch so he could slip away to find the sculptor.

 

Their growing relationship only grew closer away from the gallery, the both of them having to be constantly reminded to look away from their phones. Hank thought his eyes might roll out of his head with the amount of times Connor put his earphones in and left the room to listen to Markus’ texts in private.

 

Markus had found out that Connor was pretty sarcastic and funny over text, and the two often found themselves unable to process their emotions when one of them would teasingly flirt with the other.

 

When Markus met up with Connor this lunchtime, he found the shorter man talking to an older, looming figure. When the older man’s blue eyes trapped him he stopped in his approach. 

 

“So, this Markus?” The man was smirking, though Markus still thought his eyes were glinting dangerously at him. Connors cheeks darkened as he turned his head, unsure of which direction he was approaching from.

 

”Hey Connor.” Markus’ heart jumped when the brunette ducked his head shyly, muttering a small yes to the older man.

 

”Hey, don’t let me get in the way.” The grey-haired man threw his hands up as he sauntered away. “I gotta go walk Sumo anyway.”

 

”Who-“

 

”My Dad.” Connor groaned, expression pained. “He likes to embarrass me in front of people.”

 

”Isn’t that every dads’ job?” He watched as the sculptor relaxed and smiled in his direction. Connor hummed absently, obviously thinking about something. “And Sumo?”

 

”His dog.” The brunette was smiling fondly now. “He’s useless at anything that isn’t crushing you or slobbering everywhere but he’s the best dog anyway.”

 

”I’m sure.” Markus laughed, eyes flitting to the object in Connors hand. “Oh, so you do use a cane.”

 

”Oh yeah, this is your first time seeing me that hasn’t begun with North dragging me away without it.” Connor was trying to sound irritated but his upturned lips gave away how he really felt about his friend. Although he was still kind of salty about his first meeting with Markus, being so overwhelmed that the cane had ended up forgotten at the gallery.

 

”Do you want to go somewhere outside of the gallery for lunch today?” Markus thought he could hear some nervousness in the other’s voice. “Not that I don’t like the cafe’s food, but I think we’ve exhausted all of our options.”

 

”S-sure.” Markus finally replied, momentarily losing his ability to speak when he saw the way Connor was smiling shyly at him. “Is there anywhere you want to go?”

 

”You pick.”

 

* * *

 

 

North knew Connor was a sneaky little shit, and what she’d just watched only proved it. Connor knew the layout of the gallery like the back of his hand, he had no trouble navigating it. But by asking Markus to pick somewhere, he’d pulled off his first trick.

 

”Oh, I don’t know where that is.” She’d heard him say, almost scoffing at the lost tone he’d chosen to use.

 

To his credit, Markus was playing the part of his role perfectly, North almost thought they were as cheesy as each other.

 

”That’s alright, I can show you.” Those were the words Connor had been waiting for, reaching a hand out to bump into the larger man’s forearm before it slid up to wrap around a bicep. She knew he’d been desperate to “see” Markus ever since she’d described him, and she almost couldn’t contained her laughter when Connor seemed to zone out for a second, obviously not quite anticipating Markus’ size, before he’d tried to smoothly play his moment of awe off.

 

If Connor was being honest, he thought he’d handled himself well, considering the circumstances. He  _had_ wanted to melt into a puddle like a teenager with their first crush when Markus had offered to help him. He was proud of his legs for not giving out when he finally touched Markus and realised that North’s description of him had not been wrong in the slightest.

 

Of course, it was not only the thought of what Markus looked like that drew him in. He was sick of people treating him like a child, babying him over the simplest action. He’s twenty four for christ’s sake, he knows how to survive in the world. But Markus was never pitying with him, the two barely acknowledging the topic of his blindness. Markus never walked on eggshells around him, he just talked to him like how his friends and family would, albeit with much more subtle flirting.

 

When he felt the fresh air of the outside world encircle him, he pressed himself closer to the other man, warmth spreading when he felt Markus tighten his hold on him. 

 

“So... where are you taking me?” 

 

“Somewhere I go all the time when I’m stressed, it’s like a second home to me.”

 

The walk wasn’t long, maybe ten minutes, though Connor was so at ease in his conversation with Markus that time seemed to be flying by. Eventually they reached their destination, Markus opening the door and guiding him in, the smell of coffee instantly reaching him.

 

”Hey Markus.” He heard a smooth voice call out.

 

”Hey Josh.” Markus ushered him towards a table, thankfully near a wall as Connor realised when he was shielded from the chatter of other patrons.

 

He felt when Markus sat down opposite him, and heard the shuffle of what he assumed was a barista placing menus in front of them,

 

”What brings you here?” Oh, so Josh worked here. “I thought you were spending most of your days at the gallery. Simon says it’s because you’ve got a massive cru-“

 

”Thank. You. Josh.” Markus’ voice came out desperate and stilted, green eyes locked into Josh’s brown before he jerked his head slightly in Connor’s direction.

 

Josh’s voice caught in his throat for a second before he tried to hide a laugh, turning to walk back to his spot at the cashier desk.

 

”Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

 

Markus was glad Connor couldn’t see how mortified he looked, though he could probably hear it in the way his voice had risen a few octaves.

 

”He seems... nice.” Connor seemed flustered, though he was smiling nonetheless.

 

”Just ignore him.” Markus rolled his eyes as he shot Josh a glare which was returned with a snort and Josh turning away to give them some privacy. “Do you want me to read the menu?”

 

”You’re here so often, why don’t you recommend something?” Markus agreed and eventually decided on the same thing for both of them. After calling Josh back over and ignoring the man’s raised eyebrows and shit eating grin, he placed their order.

 

He sat back, gaze settling back onto Connor, admiring the way his hair seemed to have curled even more today, the weather had been very humid afterall. He wondered if his hair was as soft as the skin of his hands had felt when he had held onto his arm. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realised he had been staring silently at the brunette and he shuffled uncomfortably, suddenly nervous and unsure what to say. He realised that this could be considered their first real date.

 

“How did you learn to sculpt so well?” Luckily for him, Connor seemed content to ignore his moment of silence.

 

“Same way you learnt to paint so well, I guess. I enrolled in college and spent a few years slowly spiralling into debt and madness from sleep deprivation.”

 

Markus barked out a laugh at that, taking a few moment to compose himself.

 

”Yeah, me too, definitely do not miss the deadlines of those days.”

 

”Have you known Josh long?” Now it was Connor’s turn to ask a question, his head tilted endearingly.

 

“Yeah, me and Josh were roommates in college, he studied politics but he works here part time because his internship pays terribly.”

 

Connor hummed, he seemed to do that a lot, before he continued. “And Simon?”

 

Markus tried not to let his blood run to his head when he realised that this meant that Connor had definitely heard Josh’s little slip up earlier.

 

”Oh, me and Simon have been friends for as long as I can remember. The apartments we grew up in were right next to each other.” Markus smiled fondly. “What about you? How long have you known North?”

 

”We met in elementary school and have been pretty inseparable ever since.” The smaller man shrugged, Markus sensing that he had purposely kept his story vague.

 

”She’s a pretty big character.” Markus leaned closer, though he was careful not to get too close knowing how sensitive the other was to other people being around him. To his surprise, Connor also tilted his body forward.

 

”She is.” His smile turned distant. “On the first day of class, one of the other boys took an instant dislike to me. Easy target, I guess. North noticed and put a stop to it pretty quickly, taught me not to let other people treat me like that.”

 

”She sounds like a very rare type of friend.” Connor smiled genuinely this time, nodding. He made to casually shuffle to get more comfortable but as he moved his hand, he managed to move to a place on the table that had it grazing one of Markus own.

 

Both froze in place, Markus instantly searching Connor’s eyes before he realised how pointless that was. Obviously it hadn’t been Connor’s intention to do this but he still hadn’t reacted. After a few more beats of silence, Markus noted that Connor was making no moves to pull back, and decided to be brave. Slowly, giving Connor chance to back out, he inched his hand to cover up more of the smaller one beneath it, until he had eventually enveloped it. 

 

Connor gradually untensed, the shy smile on his face making Markus’ heart skip a beat as he returned the smile and used a thumb to soothingly rub the skin of the other’s hand.

 

The two must have stayed like that for a few minutes, utterly lost in each other, before the harsh sound of someone clearing their throat made them both jump.

 

”Sorry to interrupt.” By the look on Josh’s face, he wasn’t sorry at all. “Your food.”

 

Their conversation had continued at its original flow one they’d started eating, Connor curious about Markus’ childhood. Markus entertained him with stories of him and Simon’s hijink, Connor returning them with stories about North that she would probably whack him over the head for repeating.

 

Next of course came the obligatory argument over who would pay the bill, both trying to argue their case before Connor managed to persuade Markus to at least let him pay for half. Markus ignored the wink Josh sent him when they left the cafe, arms linked, though the urge to flip him off was definitely there.

 

”It would be nice to see how you work.” Markus ventured, breaking the peaceful silence of their walk back. “If we met in one of our studios I could also show you how I do everything.”

 

Connor felt every coherent thought being obliterated from his mind when he thought about spending a few hours alone with Markus, showing each other their craft. No doubt it would involve a _lot_ of touching, Connor found his heart racing at the idea. Knowing Markus was probably looking at him, he nodded maybe a tad too enthusiastically.

 

”That sounds great.” 

 

* * *

 

North almost thought they were being broken into with all the sound Connor made when he returned to their shared apartment that night. First it was the sound of his cane clumsily striking the door, before a cacophony of sound as he fumbled with it, slamming it shut behind him. She felt more than heard his footsteps as he rushed to her bedroom door, almost scaring the life out of her when he flung the door open.

 

”North! Holy shit-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not 100% happy with how this turned out I’m sorry if anything seems very disjointed it’s really hard for me to find time to write at the moment ;-;


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not dead!

 “What if I get nervous and say something dumb?”

 

”You probably will, but he must be used to that now, right?” Simon could barely resist rolling his eyes as he watched Markus’ nervous pacing. “Seriously, just relax.”

 

That made Markus still, the darker man stopping in his tracks to regard the blonde incredulously. How could he not be nervous? Thanks to busy schedules, it had been two weeks since he’d last seen Connor. Although their phone conversations were always lively and pleasant, Markus couldn’t stop the heavy feeling from settling in his stomach at the idea of the sculptor not feeling the same way as him. Realistically, he knew his fears were unfounded, the handholding at the cafe and all the subtle  touches the two had shared in the closing days of the gallery told him that Connor was at least interested.

 

Still, that didn’t stop him from pouting at his friend, who was not being at all sympathetic.

 

”Look, from what Josh spilled to me, he’s definitely into you.” The blonde was trying him best to be reassuring, smiling comfortingly at Markus before a buzzing from the artist’s phone distracted him.

 

”Shit.” His taxi was here, that meant that there was only around 20 minutes until he saw Connor again. Before he could ask Simon for reassurance for the fiftieth time, his friend was shoving him out the door.

 

They’d opted to meet at the studio that Connor rented, mainly to cut down on the effort required to transport Connor’s much heavier equipment. They both knew the facade of work was just that so Markus had only opted to bring one canvas.

 

He spent the entire taxi ride trying not to let his mind race and jump to the worst outcomes. This was easier said than done, especially when the person involved was Connor. Markus had been in love before, but those were the first few naive years of college. Of course, he didn’t love Connor, but he couldn’t help but admit how serious he was about this possible relationship. It was startling to realise that this becoming a serious thing was not something that put him off, quite the opposite.

 

The taxi came to a halt and a sense of dread - mixed with a hint of excitement - overcame him. His hands were sweaty as he fumbled to find cash to pay the driver, and he privately praised himself for drowning himself in antiperspirant that morning.

 

He wondered if Connor was as nervous as him, if he was sitting in the studio waiting, fingers or feet tapping nervously like Markus had seen them do before.

 

Before he’d even fully realised it, his hand was knocking on the door. 

 

The corridor fell silent as he held his breath, waiting for the telltale tapping sound of Connor’s approach. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. 

 

* * *

 

 

To say that Connor was nervous would be the understatement of the century. It had taken around an hour of North persuading him that he looked great before he reluctantly made his way to the studio.

 

Once he was there he found the silence he usually found peaceful to be deafening, nimble fingers drumming on the desk to fill in the space. When there was a knock at the door, he practically jumped out of his seat, heart racing as he stumbled towards the entrance, careful not to whack anything too hard.

 

When he finally swung the door open he was greeted by the now familiar smell of Markus’ cologne.

 

“Markus,” He breathed out. “Come in.”

 

This time it was Connor’s turn to guide Markus, leading him through the ordered chaos that was his studio.

 

”Not gonna lie, I always pictured your workspace as ridiculously clean.” 

 

Connor nudged him at that, faking a shocked expression. “You thought I was a prude?”

 

”Not at all.” Markus smiled, letting himself fall back into step with the brunette before they reached the workspace. “I’ve missed seeing you all the time.”

 

”Me too.” Connor was quiet for a few beats before Markus cleared his throat, willing his blush away.

 

“How’s work been?”

 

”Same old, I spend a lot of time listening to crusty rich people talking about what statues they want to decorate their mansions with, but it makes me money so I guess I shouldn’t complain.” Connor’s nervousness was beginning to decrease as he and the painter fell back into their usual playful banter. “How about you?” 

 

“Much busier after the gallery, I guess quite a few people took a liking to my style.” 

 

“I’m sure it’s lovely.”

 

Markus could only blink at him dumbly. God, how was it legal for a person to be made this endearing. Connor seemed to take the silence negatively and began to flounder before Markus cut him off.

 

”I said I’d show you how I work.” He smiled triumphantly when he saw the other relax. “Can I?”

 

Connor seemed to have shortcircuited for a few moments, although he did eventually reach a hand out. 

 

“Show me.” 

 

The next thing he knew, he was sat in what he assumed was a stool, a wooden object being placed in his hand. He ran his other hand up it experimentally, his suspicions about it being confirmed when he felt the bristles of a brush against his fingertips. 

 

The sound of the easel being pulled in front of him masked the sounds of Markus edging his own stool closer and Connor jumped when he felt a weight settle behind him, careful not to touch him though he could still feel the heat radiating off the larger man.

 

”My teacher, Carl, taught me that painting was about more than just copying what I saw in front of me.” Markus’ words were practically a whisper, voice low but still heard clearly by Connor who had to suppress a shudder at the feeling of breathe at his ear. “He used to frustrate me at first, honestly when I first started I didn’t quite get the handle of it, so he told me to close my eyes-“

 

”Way ahead of you.”

 

Connor smirked when he felt the body behind him shaking with barely withheld laughter. Markus nudged him playfully, though the action only caused him to be pressed closer to the sculptor. Figuring that his chance of being rejected at this point was pretty low, Markus pressed closer, hand coming to hold the one that was enclosed around a paintbrush.

 

”You know, I was actually really trying to be romantic here.”

 

”Oh by all means, continue.” Connor sank back, able to feel the painter’s defined abs at his back, hair pressed into the crook of Markus’ neck. His body warmed when he felt the frantic beating of Markus heart, a feeling of endearment filling him when he realised how nervous the other was.

 

”He told me to try and picture something I’ve never seen before.”

 

”I mean that’s literally everything in my case.”

 

This time Markus plain snorted next to his ear, body creasing until his nose was pressed against Connor’s hair. Trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation, Markus held Connor’s hand in front of the canvas, shifting so that his lips were right next to the shorter man’s ear the next time he spoke.

 

”Are you done?”

 

This time Connor found himself completely unable to suppress the shudder when the painter’s low tone ghosted over his ear. Biting his lip and drawing in a breath, he nodded.

 

“Then he told me to just let my hand drift across the canvas.” Illustrating this, he moved their conjoined hands in one large smooth motion, enjoying the feeling on the smaller man’s lithe body moving in tandem with him. 

 

Connor let out a breathe, cheeks burning up when all he could focus on was the feeling of the other’s muscles tensing and untensing as they manouvered him. After a few minutes, he’d all but completely given up on even trying to guess what he was painting, all of his thoughts thoroughly zoned in on the man behind him. 

 

“Is this how you show everyone?” His breathe stilled when he felt another breathy laugh at his ear.

 

”Just you.”

 

Connor ducked his head, overwhelmed by the emotions hitting him. He jumped slightly when he felt Markus’ other hand come to settle gently on his waist, tensing for a few moments before he decided to place his free hand on top of it.

 

“So, what are we painting?” 

 

“I’ll leave that to your imagination, I only ever said I’d show you how I work.”

 

One of Connor’s shoulders flinched back to jostle the larger man, who simply laughed as he put the paintbrush down.

 

”If I said I painted what I feel when I think of you would that be enough?” 

 

“Nope.” The brunette shrugged Markus’ body off of him, rising up only to spin and offer a hand to the painter. “I also recall offering you a glimpse into my work.”

 

The sound of Markus pushing the stools between them aside wasn’t enough to mask the  _nerd_ Connor heard him mutter. Lips curled upwards, his freckled hands reached out to grab the other’s forearm.

 

”I start by trying to figure out a person’s basic proportions.” As he said this, he ran a hand up Markus’ arm, hand spread as it explored a muscular shoulder. Letting his green eyes close, Markus let his hand do the same, the sensitive skin of his palms mapping the smoothness of Connor’s neck, lightly grazing his collarbones.

 

He could help but smirk as the minutes passed and Connor continued his ministrations, lingering in some places much longer than was surely necessary. Still, he didn’t let his eyes open and continued his caress of the sculptor’s body in his hands.

 

”And how exactly are you still single?” Markus exhaled a laugh when the other’s hands found themselves preoccupied with his pecs.

 

”You haven’t seen my face yet, who knows what horrors I’m hiding.” Connor felt his heart skip as he got the answer he’d been hoping for. There was only so much that North’s descriptions of Markus could do, he wanted to see for himself.

 

Connor’s touch left goosebumps behind on the skin of his neck as they slowly smoothed upwards. He could practically see the cogs turning in the sculptor’s head as his skilled fingers slowly analysed every feature, hands cupping his jaw as two thumbs caressed his cheekbones, trailing up to stroke past two symmetrical eyebrows.

 

”Happy now?” Connor’s mouth twitched as he mapped out Markus’ smirk.

 

”Yes, and you didn’t really answer my question.”

 

”I guess I just hadn’t met the right person.” Markus let his eyes open and he watched as the brunette’s eyebrows furrowed, taking his time to consider the painter’s answer.

 

”Does that mean you’ve found someone who interests you?”

 

”That is a ridiculously formal way to put it,” His larger hands came up to frame Connor’s face. “But yes.”

 

Connor hummed in thought, enjoying the way one of Markus’ thumbs stroked his cheek. He let his own hands slide back down to rest against a broad neck, fingers curling against the warm skin, inadvertently bringing their faces closer.

 

The two seemed frozen in place, Connor tensing when he felt the other’s breath at his lips while Markus thought something inside himself was breaking when he watched Connor bite his own lip in response to the sensation.

 

“They must really be something if you’re interested in them.” The sculptor’s mind was working a mile a minute to try and process the situation, head tilting down as a flustered blush plastered his cheeks.

 

”Yeah, they are.” Cupping his chin, he felt when Markus tilted his face back up, the action drawing an exhale from his parted lips. His fingers tightened on the darker man’s shirt collar when Markus leaned forward to press their foreheads together. “Can I kiss you?”

 

Connor’s small nod and the feeling of him pulling the taller man closer was all the instigation he needed. Letting his eyes slowly shut, Markus finally closed the distance between them, Connor tensing for a split second before he was melting into his touch as their lips met.

 

Markus’ previous suspicions were confirmed, Connor’s lips were as soft as the rest of him. Their lips moved slowly together at first, experimenting as they tested out these new water. Connor sighed into the kiss as he felt a hand burrowing into his hair, pushing him closer and he let one of his own stroke the exposed skin of Markus’ neck.

 

Each moment seemed to intoxicate Markus more than the last, his other hand smoothing down to press against the other’s lower back, effectively caging Connor in his embrace. Not that the other man particilarly minded, all too eager to get closer to the painter.

 

They’d found a pace they were both satisfied with when Markus decided to take it further, his tongue tracing the seam of Connor’s lips. The other made a small noise at the back of his throat, before the sensation of their tongues meeting drew a low groan from his own.

 

Before the kiss could go on for too long, Connor was pulling back for air. The two stayed firmly against each other, breath mingling until Markus pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before finally finishing with one to his cheekbone.

 

The sound of Connor’s breathy laugh was enough to distract him from his phone’s angry buzzing, though the brunette did eventually force him to take the call. As expected, it was an inquiry into his work, another person wanted to commission him. He didn’t even try to resist when Connor’s arms curled back around him and pulled him down for a congratulatory kiss. Honestly he lost track of how long the two spent like that, migrating to a chair where they could nestle against each other, trading yet more stories about themselves until one of them decided to claim the other’s lips every now and then. If someone offered them to spend the rest of eternity wrapped in the feeling of that afternoon they both would accept without hesitation, but eventually they were forced to detach themselves from one another so that Connor could go meet a client.

 

* * *

 

 

When Markus returned back to the apartment Simon took one look at him before he scoffed and hid his face back into his phone.

 

”God, don’t even tell me. I can already tell from that goofy look that it went well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, writing anything other than fluff? Impossible. 
> 
> Also you have no idea how sorry I am for how slowly I reply to comments I promise I will get the nerve to do it one day


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